


That we should take this road again

by Argendriel



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied Character Death, blink and you'll miss it slashy subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argendriel/pseuds/Argendriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old Admiral Hornblower takes a walk down to the shore and watches the sea, reminiscing.</p><p>Inspired by the song "The Ocean Road" by Runrig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That we should take this road again

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the song ["The Ocean Road"](http://argendriel.tumblr.com/post/43931896432) by Runrig, a song, which Whiteowly and I agreed seemed to perfectly fit an old!Hornblower and dead!Mr. Bush - which made us very sad. I thought that I would love to be able to draw a comic for the song - but since I lack the skills for that, I decided to write a short story instead. It's been a long time since I last wrote anything and English is not my native tongue, so please forgive any mistakes.  
> This is mainly based on the TV series, as I've not yet read much of the books.

The air was crisp, carrying the salty tang of the waves lapping against the stones below and the smoke drifting in faintly from the nearby town. The breeze was not particularly strong and carried only the barest hint of frost, yet it sufficed to cause his joints to stiffen and his old wounds and scars to smart and he found himself wishing, once again, for the vitality of his youth. A little frost and the damp of the sea would never have bothered him as much, back when he was still a midshipman, or even a young captain. The cold never used to bother him then, not as much as his dear friend Bush, who would sink into the collar of his coat and frown, miserably, unhappy with the snow falling around them and the gale blowing through even the tightest woven fabrics.

  
A weary, mournful smile lifted the corner of his mouth. It had been years, decades, since his old friend had died and yet he was still able to recall some of the most trivial details of his mannerisms.

As he let his eyes rove over the sea, the wind picked up and brought a sting to his eyes, yet he did not close them, instead letting them roam across the ever-moving surface of the sea before him, up to the horizon.

He had taken a stroll on this early morning to escape the stuffiness of his study, to act on an odd restlessness that had befallen him. His steps had led him away from the manor he inhabited with his wife - far too spacious an estate with their children grown and with families of their own now - and down to the shore. He was unsure what had driven him down here, other than the fierce longing for the rolling of the waves he sometimes felt, now that he was rarely to be found on a ship anymore.

  
Wearily, he shifted where he stood, his aching body protesting, and breathed in the air, closed his eyes and listened for a while. The crashing of the waves and the faint spray on his face brought back memories of the calmer times at sea and he could almost feel the years falling off him for a moment, could almost hear the crew milling about, the wind howling in the sails, the boatswain's whistles, and could almost feel the trusted, loyal presence of his old friend by his side.

When he opened his eyes again, he caught the wry smile on the face of young Lieutenant Bush, standing before him on his own two feet, waiting.

"I fear, sir, we may be running a little late."

Hornblower stood still, suddenly very calm, took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Then, he nodded, a faint smile of his own on his lips.

"Well. That is unfortunate, but inevitable. We will just have to make up for lost time with speed, then, won't we?"

Bush gave him a court nod, traces of mirth still clear in the twinkle in his eyes.

"We are only waiting for you, Captain. Lieutenant Kennedy has the Hotspur prepared and ready. Matthews sends his regards."

He took a few steps forward, then he turned around and reached his right hand out towards Hornblower.

"It is an honour to sail with you again, sir."

Hornblower only hesitated for a small moment before taking the offered hand, feeling almost young again all of a sudden, as if a great weight had been taken from him. He smiled more sincerely now, eager to go on a new journey once more, after all those years.

"And with you, old friend."

 

 

* * *

 

 

They found the old Admiral in the evening, quietly leaning against a stone down at the shore. His features were calm, almost tranquil as if deep in sleep. His wife shed a few tears, yet appeared not as shocked as she could have been, so they assumed she had been expecting the news - after all, the Admiral had been old and gone through many a heroic battle in his time. If they had asked, she would have told them with a sad smile that on the same morning, she had, whilst glancing out of the window of the library looking down over the bay, thought to have seen a ship coming in and had known, deep in her heart, that her husband was going home at last.


End file.
